


Another Me

by Kamari333



Series: ain't this more than lust [2]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underlust (Undertale), Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Brain Day, Burns, Chronic Pain, Flirting, Kissing, M/M, No Sex, Sans (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Souls, Sweat, The Significance of Collars in Fell-verse culture, Underfell Sans (Undertale), Underfell Sans/Underlust Sans (Undertale), Underlust Sans (Undertale)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23059813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamari333/pseuds/Kamari333
Summary: Lust isn't having the best day and his self care regiment is in shambles. Being interrupted and asked probing questions would make anyone cranky.
Relationships: Sans/Sans (Undertale)
Series: ain't this more than lust [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1657252
Comments: 64
Kudos: 147





	1. Sans' Attempts

**Author's Note:**

> gonna try to do nil's naming convention of song titles here too XD
> 
> have a short ficlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans comes home early and gives his best shot at doing for someone else what he never did for himself.

Lust fiddled with the TV remote idly as he mentally went through the available channels in his head. He didn't dare cable surf, not when He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was so prominent, and Pink's relentless job searching made his schedule so erratic that he could show up at any minute. The sight of the blackout curtain over the bookshelf (which served as the house's movie collection's honored display) reminded him of how understanding Papyrus had been of the need for temporary censorship.

Nobody wanted to watch Pink fight back tears at the sight of robot legs, least of all kind, sweet Papyrus.

Finally settling on a safe option, Lust flipped to one of the channels dedicated to cartoons. The soft colors and upbeat music helped him relax, giving him the strength he needed not to smoke (not in anal, fun-hating Papyrus's smoke-free house).

Lovable bastard. Anyone else trying to tell Lust what he could and couldn't suck on would have been laughed out of the room. Shame Lust couldn't bake for shit. Nobody said anything about brownies...

The front door opened, Sans shuffling in like a normal person, keys jingling against his hand. He closed and locked the door (a habit, from the look of things, just one of many innocuous tells that Sans hadn't always been quite so put together) before doing a double take at Lust.

Lust didn't look directly back at Sans, still keeping an eye on his shows (Alphys was right, magical girl anime was a damn aesthetic), but he only needed his peripheral to catch the way his eyelights shrank threefold and focused on Lust's ribcage.

Did Lust forget to mention he was shirtless? It was hot. Lounging in booty shorts under the AC in what he had been told to consider his own home was a protected right. They were lucky he was nice enough to put some towels down to soak up his sweat.

"take a picture, it'll last longer," Lust hummed idly, still playing with the remote, appreciating the cool plastic.

"how long has your soul been cracked?" Sans asked, his voice ringing with hollow, existential dread.

Seemed like a personal question. Sure, Lust had sort of forgotten it was visible under his ribs, but still. "you first."

Sans didn't flinched. He didn't have to: the fact he didn't have an immediate witty one-liner was enough proof Lust had hit the nail on the head.

"are you- is someone taking care of it?" Sans finally asked, like he cared. Lust couldn't help but smile at the sentiment: he knew better than anyone just how goddamn uncomfortable he made Sans (and Red, for that matter) feel. It was hard not to, when they were essentially him, and he sure as fuck made himself uncomfortable on a regular basis. The gesture of pretending, when there wasn't anyone else to pretend for, didn't go unnoticed.

On the other hand, the idea that he, Lust himself, wouldn't know what to do to keep his busted ticker ticking was so close to insulting it was functionally equivocal.

Lust hated bittersweet. He'd had enough of it.

"every night." It was true: wasn't hard to find a one-night-stand in downtown Ebott. Enough folks were curious or fetishist enough to give him the ten minutes he needed, and some were gullible enough to pay him for it. "didn't red sweetie tell you? or is his stalking habit a secret?"

Sans's shoulders slumped into something more relaxed. "no, that sounds about right." The lumpy popato of a man slid his way to the couch to sit down. "does pink know?"

"duh." _Does Pink know._ Like Lust could hide shit from him. "you sure are making a big deal out of nothing."

Lust got a few more minutes of blessed quiet, listening to girly screaming about the power of friendship. He almost thought it was over.

As if Lust had ever been so lucky.

"it is a big deal, though." Sans spoke softly, slowly, as if convincing himself as much as anything. "does it hurt?"

"compared to what?" Lust probably should have thought before he spoke, but the prying was getting on his already frayed nerves.

"how bad?"

"same as it always has," Lust said, flipping the TV off and looking Sans properly in the eyes. "now whats this really about? all this soul talk's got me wondering if maybe you wanna do more than just look~"

Sans' face lit up in powder blue, a soft, untainted hue. "what?"

Lust could see it, _the want, the hunger_. It was impossible not to read the sins crawling down Sans' back, down to his pelvis where they lingered, begging to be touched. It was like an erotic novel, the images sculpted out of pure intent and emotion as clearly as any words: _soft leather gloves burning like a brand into the surface of his soul, unmoving, safe, but he could feel the slick making friction from his own fluttering; the heady softness of weed taking the edge off the pain; hot breath ghosting over his shoulder until teeth made their home again in bone; still, those hands, holding him safe from the world, from himself, and when they moved-_

Lust could never say Sans had bad taste.

"or maybe its me you want to do the touching?" Lust leaned forward, just enough to brace himself on the couch arm, shifting to loom over Sans (but not touch, never touch, there was a line there). "i'm sure i could borrow some leather gloves~"

Just like he expected, Sans maxed out on the shit he could take. One moment he was sweating under Lust, weighed down by his own sin, the next he was three feet away with his back to the exit. "heh. ok. gonna just. leave you to your toons."

In moments, Sans was out the door, leaving Lust alone once more in the house.

Lust relaxed back into his towel with a chuckle, turning the TV back on. Little runt needed to get a stepstool to reach his level. That, or Lust tripped on an emotional landmine and sent some poor traumatized bastard out for a nervous smoke. The smile fell out of him to shatter in his lap like cheap china. He'd have to apologize later if he smelled smoke.


	2. Red's Attempts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Red goes to give Lust his best shot. Everything is fine until they're not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't expect there to be a second chapter of this XD
> 
> this isn't what I planned at all
> 
> i also probably ruined Nil's lovely characters so fml
> 
> hey look content warnings in end notes

Sans had been overnighting at Red's for two days before he finally said anything.

Red knew the moment Sans crawled into his lap that something was off, but the dumbfuck had been too busy choking on his dick ( _because Red's dick was so therapeutic, cured arthritis and acme and everything_ ) to say a word. Red figured out a while ago that trying to push the lil shit just made him clam up harder: he knew how to play the waiting game by now, and sometimes he could even win.

The fact Sans came to him in the first place meant he'd planned to talk to begin with; just had to sort his stupid ducks first.

"his soul's cracked," Sans just mumbled out of the blue between episodes of 3rd Rock.

Red flipped the TV off and parked the remote, putting both hands on the brat in his lap. He let them wander, doing the rounds to check that all was well. _Neck? Yup, still colored in a crescent bruise featuring his teeth. Sternum? Feels right, shuddering in slow cycles. Lumbar spine? Could use a few extra scratches._ Sans went boneless on top of him, the anxiety bleeding out to be replaced with heat.

"who?" Red only asked for the sake of conversation.

"lust."

Red's hands didn't go still for more than a second. He didn't let them. He refused to give a damn about that crazy bastard. "so?"

"it's cracked like mine."

"why should i give a shit?"

"i dunno, why do you?"

Red hated Sans so much sometimes. Hated. Loathed. Viscerally detested. If anything ever happened to him, Red would kill everyone in the room and then fuck time in the mouth to bring him back.

Sans tucked himself under Red's chin, shaky fingers clawing into his well-worn shirt. "he was just... sitting there? shirtless, out for anyone to see???"

 _Like it didn't matter who knew,_ Red heard. "don't say."

"tried the whole support thing."

"how'd that go?" Red knew the answer before Sans even bothered to expertly turn his head, slow and dramatic and put upon, to give Red the neutral face of displeasure. "ain't that a surprise? guy dont wanna take help? i'm shocked. this is my shocked face."

"you know, i was gonna say i'm sorry for putting you through it, but now you can go fuck yourself."

"did that last night," Red purred amiably, his hand sliding up to pluck Sans' be-collared wrist off his chest and bring it up for inspection.

Yup. Still there, still theirs. He ran the leather over his teeth, breathing it in, reveling in it. Nothing really did it for Red like when all his people were safe and secure in arms reach, but being able to smell them in one messy ball of sensation was a close second.

The shit-giving cruise liner set sail a long time ago. Red might as well enjoy the ride.

Sans' alarm went off. He shifted around to silence it with his free hand. Red considered keeping hold of him, just a moment or two, before shoving Sans with as much gentleness as he was still capable of (the magnitude of which was a state secret, to be defended to the death). "get out of here. don't wanna keep him waiting."

Sans sat on his ass a few moments, likely reading between the lines that were missing from the usual conversation. The infuriating, sexy bastard smirked, all soft and relieved like Red did something he would never do. "yeah. edgelord gets antsy when i miss our lunch date."

"and no one wants to deal with that. scram."

Sans meandered over the few feet to slide on his shoes (velcro now, only the best for the lazy and danger prone). He didn't say a word, but the lingering heat in his gaze before he slipped out the door was enough to almost make Red regret letting him leave.

Not enough to stop him, mind, not when the backlash of that would be more trouble than it was worth, but almost.

With Sans off to ride his shitty bus, Red had time to kill. That was the only reason he put his own shoes on and sidestepped through the void to Sans's house.

Lust was lounging on the couch, an icepack on his head as he slept. He was drenched in sweat, despite the day being typical of a cool spring, and the AC turned down so low it would make a wool sweater look comfortable. Red walked right up to the side of the couch, leaning on the arm to look down at him.

Lust had a crop top on today, but Red should have been able to see the glow of his soul if he squinted. He couldn't. All he could see were the dim glimmers of magic between his joints: shimmering purple, the exact hue that made Red salivate like one of pavlov's dogs.

Just looking at him was irritating. Knowing what he'd been doing (or in this case, not knowing _whom_ ) every night since they showed up only made it worse. Lust wasn't even discreet about it, waving to Red over his shoulder while he walked into shitty bar bathrooms or cheep motels with any Tom, Dick, or Jenny that gave him so much as a good sniff.

"if pictures aren't your thing, maybe try video," Lust mumbled, before moving to sit up. The icepack slid off his head to land on the cushion, making a sloshing noise: all the ice was thoroughly melted inside. He stretched, cracking his spine in shameless, lewd snaps that made Red wish he'd taken that advice five seconds sooner. "can i help you~?"

"nah, but i can help you," Red growled low. "hows about ya cut that midnight trawling and let me get ya off instead?"

"why should i?" Lust asked without missing a beat. He doesn't say it like he's opposed, but rather like he was asking what the price was going to be.

"because i can give ya exactly what ya want." More importantly, Red can take the chance to get inside the fucker's head, vet him for Edge. If the guy is anything like Sans, he'll be reluctant to see past his biases, what with his head so far up his ass.

Lust turned to look Red dead in the eyes. After a long moment of soul searching (whether Red's soul or his own, who the fuck could say), Lust gave him a smile that made Red want to strangle something. "no you can't, but you can pretend for five minutes and that's long enough to get me off."

"the fuck is that supposed to mean??" Red demanded, offended less at the accusation and more at the irritating notion that he might have missed a clue. Red never missed. He couldn't afford to.

"it means you'll make a decent dildo," List deadpanned. "so pick a spot to lay down and prepare for rugburn."

Red always did have a weakness for prickly assholes. The shit talk was already doing it for him. "who said you got to be on top?"

Lust reached out with both hands for Red's face (a stupid idea, really, considering how much self control Red wasted not biting him; a hint that this fucker had about as much self-preservation as a wet paper bag), cupping his jaw on either side firmly. "i did. unless you think you could dom me in a way that matters~?"

Red had never been one to back down from a challenge; it would ruin his reputation if he let the new guy beat him in anything, wits especially, and sex in particular. Growling, Red gripped onto Lust's hips, testing how his fingers dug into the bone. They were hot and slick like Lust had been in an oven. "bet your ass i could."

Lust thumbed at Red's false tooth, pressing his hips into Red's hands like they fit there, had been waiting to fit there. He smiled, not a smirk, but something softer and more annoying that made Red want to bite it off. "i'll take that bet~" His voice was like addiction, the haunting call of something painfully sweet. He leaned in, slow, giving Red plenty of time to retreat if he wanted, the gleam in his eyes daring him to back down.

Red refused out of pure spite.

Teeth met teeth, and Red growled into Lust's mouth. He wasn't usually a big kisser, but he wasn't going to let this asshole beat him at his own game either.

Red could still taste the remnants of weed and bitter chocolate on Lust's breath. He'd file that away for future reference.

Firming his hold, Red pulled them both through a shortcut to the guest room he knew the two of them were making use of, catching Lust before he fell and pushing him down on the bed.

Lust moaned out a delightful noise that Red drank in as he peeled away his sweaty booty shorts. Once they were gone, Lust hooked his legs over Red's hips, grinding his newly formed pussy into Red's crotch, wet and dirty and insistent.

They still hadn't broken the kiss and Red wasn't going to be the one to pull away first. Red's favorite game was chicken and he was damn good at it.

Red ground back, letting his bulge give the little brat a taste of what he was about to get.

Red felt the smile against his teeth, Lust's wicked sharp grin barely any kind of warning. Next thing Red knew, one of Lust's hands had slid down from his jaw to his neck, taken hold of Red's collar, and _tugged_.

Red could feel the electricity digging into the pressure of his bones, hot-angry-protective intent that would seer the flesh off a softer monster in seconds, flowing harmlessly by him like water as the pressure on his neck increased. Lust screamed into his mouth, legs tightening around Red's waist as the body under him shook, a belt of heat.

_There’s a smell ~~Sans~~ Red recognizes from scavenged meat cooked over trashcan fires in the city: scorched bone and marrow._

Red grabbed Lust's wrist and yanked it away from him. The hand finally let go, making that hateful scent even stronger in the air. It kills Red's libido faster than any bullet. Red pulled back, snarling like he can clear the static in his head if he can only scream loud enough. "what the _fuck_ -?!?!"

Only, when he looks down at Lust, what he sees in the first fraction of a second doesn't match what his instincts are screaming should be there: Lust's eyelights are unfocused; he's breathing slow, rhythmic, and heavy; his face was that vivid purple that did things to Red where he didn't have any callouses, and it's the only thing he has to focus on, to keep the instinctual rage at bay, to keep from doing something he would regret later.

It only lasted as long as it took Red to make a sound, something in Red's voice like a splash of cold water to Lust's near-drunken senses. Lust unhooked his legs, using his elbows to drag his naked coccyx part way back from Red with a speed that even Edge would have approved of. "oh. oh shit. did i- was that too much- fuck i never asked your safe word-"

" _what the hell is wrong with you?!_ " Red felt himself all but shout, tossing the wrist in his hand away before he crushed it. He knew in his head he hadn't ever said anything to Lust about his collar, he knew that, but the smell-

"oh fuck- i'm so sorry- fuck-" Lust's colors died in a wave, like someone poured whiteout over his head, leaving only his pelvis unaffected. "what do you need?"

 _What the actual batshit ass backwards-_ "the fuck do you mean, what the fuck do **i** need, it's **you** that-!" Red lurched to his feet, swiping a cigarette from his pocket to light up and give himself something else to smell besides charred dumbass.

This is what happened when Red let himself get complaisant: accidents and broken bodyparts. "where the fuck are your pants-"

Lust lay back on the bed, a defeated slump to his shoulders as he pulled one of the pillows onto his still very wet pussy with the hand he hadn't ruined. "i'm so sor-"

"i said put your fucking pants on!" Red snarled. His hands were shaking, but they went obediently still when he put them to an actual use. He was able to start texting Edge somewhat coherently, the message telling him Red was coming to get him.

"sorry, but no."

Red's fingers hit send. "then i hope you don't care about boss seeing your sopping cunt, because he's coming to heal your fucking hand whether you're decent or not."

Lust looked down at his hand. "oh..?" He twitched his now blackened fingers, wincing. "oh."

Red watched in horror as Lust brought his hand to his face, and started to _lick his hand_ , in slow, lingering strips from his carpals to the tips of each distal phalanx, cleaning away the char and leaving white bone as if it had never been.

The face he made was nearly rapturous, that damned indigo returning in full force. _It was fucking hot._

Lust flexed his newly healed fingers. "see? i'm fine. no more burn. don't need to bother edge at work." The last bit sounds more like a plea. 

Red didn't quite have words.

"yeah. heh. guess that was a mood killer, either way." The glow of Lust's pussy, which had never left, refracted off of his spine and exposed ribs. His eyelights hadn't looked back at Red once since Red broke contact, all the pride and sass washed out of him, leaving him a pathetic mess of sweat and bone.

Red had never been one to back down from a challenge. He wasn't about to let a shitty memory dictate when and where his dick got wet. He crushed the burning cherry of his cig into the sole of his shoe, then tossed the damn thing in the trashcan.

"don't touch the collar."

Lust rubbed his face with the hand that had been burned to hell moments ago. "yeah. ok."

"and my safeword's quark," Red muttered as he peeled his jacket off, tossing it at the door like he hope's something will break. He does, he just isn't sure what the fuck he wants broken.

Lust didn't move. "i'll remember."

"i was having a good fucking day until your stupidity pissed me off." Red reached back down into his shorts to work his thumb roughly against his pubic symphysis. He wasn't about to pass up this opportunity: the first vulnerability Lust ever gave him, the first time he got to see the fucker's walls shatter.

Lust didn't move. Didn't look at him. He looked like a kicked puppy, except he was still a panting, sweaty mess begging to be fucked into the mattress.

Once Red was primed, he crawled back onto the bed on his knees.

Lust jerked up at the sound, finally looking at Red. "what are you doing?"

"are you saying that cunt isn't still aching for a good dick down?" Red asked, pausing just inches away.

"...you aren't in a good place to do this right now, sweetie..." Lust murmured softly. "you just had a nasty scare-"

"don't tell me what i do and don't fucking need," Red hissed. "scare my ass. like i give a shit about-"

Red didn't even finish his thought. Lust's smile came back full force, all viciousness and bitter bite. "of course not~ but i'm not in the mood anymore, so~"

Lust disappeared before Red could grab him, leaving a damp patch of purple calling out his lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Smooching happens and Red's really into the foreplay until Lust, reading something out of context, gives Red's collar a lil tug. Red's cool with collar tugging but unfortunately Edge hasnt had time or inclination to adjust the intent to Lust and the protective magic burns his hand to hell. Lust is into it (?), but the smell reminds Red of that one time Edge almost died so he's one step away from a full blown episode and Lust responds BADLY when he realizes. Even after Red pulls himself together to try the sex again, Lust is reluctant. Something Red says makes him run.
> 
> great way to start a relationship


End file.
